First, however, maybe I need to post both the history behind the print and the thoughts behind why Kuntsler painted it. I captured this info from the Gallery Direct Art Site.

About the Art: Amid the wages of war, it was a celebration of life. On May 1, 1864, a high-ranking group of Confederate officers gathered at the Mayhurst located in Orange, Virginia. Chief among them was General Robert E. Lee, commander of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia, and one of his three corps commanders, General Ambrose Powell Hill. The purpose of the meeting was not wartime strategy: Instead, Lee and his lieutenants were assembled for the baptism of an infant. The child’s name was Lucy Lee Hill. She was the daughter of General Hill and his wife, Kitty. They had named her in honor of General Lee, who had agreed to be the child’s godfather and joined the parents at her baptism. Lee’s participation reflected a key character trait: humility. Although faced with a multitude of duties as army commander, Lee took time to participate in a child’s baptism. The Reverend Richard Davis of St. Thomas Episcopal Church in Orange conducted the ceremony, dedicating tiny Lucy Lee to the Lord’s service as he baptized her with water from a silver bowl — in the name of “the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.”

Throughout the baptism ceremony, General Lee gently held baby Lucy Lee in his arms. It was undoubtedly a comfortable and pleasant experience for Lee, who was a devout Christian and the father of seven children. Although his duties had called him from home during much of his child-rearing years, Lee was a devoted father who doted on his children – and all of them revered him in return. Did he ponder similar moments in his own family life as he held the Hill infant at her baptism? It was a tender but fleeting moment for Lee, Hill and all the others present that memorable day in May. Soon, the spring campaigns would draw Lee and his army into a series of savage and bloody contests – the battles of the Wilderness, Spotsylvania Court House and Cold Harbor. Within a year, General Hill would fall mortally wounded at the battle of Five Forks; Lee would surrender his tattered and battered army at Appomattox; and little Lucy Lee Hill – like countless other children in the North and the South – would be left fatherless. She would eventually become a revered figure in the South – a symbol of Southern courage and sacrifice – would be known regionally as the “Daughter of the Confederacy.” As for Lee, his legacy would become greater than simply military genius: It would become a legacy of character – and foremost among those traits was humility.

Mort Künstler’s Comments: What could I paint to commemorate the 200th anniversary of General Robert E. Lee’s birth? That’s the question I asked myself as I thought ahead to January 19, 2007. What could be the subject? I decided it had to focus on Lee, the man – but what event? Then, as I returned to Dr. James I. Robertson, Jr.’s wonderful biography of A.P. Hill, I discovered a possible subject. I double-checked R.E. Lee by Douglas Southall Freeman and was convinced that I had found the ideal situation. What emerged was the idea of Tender is the Heart.

“On May 1, a clear and warm Sunday,” wrote Dr. Robertson, “the Reverend Richard Davis of St. Thomas Episcopal Church baptized Lucy Hill in a ceremony at Mayhurst. General Lee was godfather and held the infant in his arms throughout most of the service.” What an appropriate scene to observe the 200th anniversary of Lee’s birth! It would depict Lee the commander in uniform with some of his officers – and, most importantly for my purposes, it would show the humility of Robert E. Lee the man in a tender, poignant moment reflective of his character and personality. Imagine General Robert E. Lee holding a baby – General A.P. Hill’s baby – which to my knowledge had never been painted! The Mayhurst, where the baptism occurred, is now an inn – a picturesque bed and breakfast in Orange, Virginia.

Frank Walker, a knowledgeable local historian in Orange, helped with research about the event. Jack and Pat North, owners of today’s Mayhurst Inn, described the room in which the ceremony probably took place – and even obtained photographs of the silver bowl and goblet used in the ceremony. (The artifacts are in the collection of St. Thomas Episcopal Church in Orange.) It’s all too easy to think of the Civil War in terms of huge battles and marching armies. But, as with all history, it’s actually the story of real people caught by passing events in a real time and place. The challenge for an artist like me is to capture the meaningful human moments that best represent the people and the events of the era. I hope Tender is the Heart is a reminder of the “other” side of the Civil War — and especially represents the heart of one of the era’s greatest figures: General Robert E. Lee.

Just my observation of the print here, but I’m not a big fan of Kunstler’s work. Something about the colors and depth. I prefer Troiani and some Rocco, although I am truly amazed at the photographic-like details in Strain’s art. But then, this is just my preference. Frankly, my stick people look pathetic.

So, in an effort to detach my personal preferences for art from this piece, I need to look at this from another angle.

First, from the comments made in reply to the post in Civil War Memory, I agree with something Brooks Simpson said. First and foremost, Confederate stuff sells. Kunstler knows his audience and knows that painting a scene filled with emotion will make a big splash among the folks who buy this type of art. Furthermore, the scene was obviously chosen to evoke emotion (you don’t have to look far beyond the title to figure that out). Yet, does it invoke something else that helps to reinforce the “moonlight and magnolias” image? Does this play on “imagined memories?” If so, how? Is this actually the problem seen by some?

That said however, why does all Civil War art have to be blood and gore? Obviously, the Civil War had plenty of it, but even Troiani takes care not to splatter the canvas with an abundance of such imagery. I have four Troiani works. In two of them, I see men lying on the ground, but the blood isn’t obvious and it certainly isn’t running in pools, nor do I see dismembered soldiers or soldiers tearing at their shell jackets to see if they received a gut wound. Some of his works show the chaos of battle and even the dead and wounded. He does this extremely well. Yet Troiani knows to go just so far and he knows that going too far will result in a piece that people won’t want to hang in any room in the house. I’m pretty sure that Kunstler and most Civil War artists know this as well (though, again, I think Troiani has the better grasp of portraying chaos in battle).

Personally, my favorite pieces show soldiers standing by themselves in non-combat related instances. I have the Washington Artillery piece, and also like the one showing a Hessian smoking his pipe while on guard. Personally, I’m leaning toward purchasing the Hessian print because, even though it isn’t their regiment portrayed in the piece, to me, it best portrays my Hessian ancestors… neither likely fired a shot during the entire Saratoga Campaign!

The point is that there is more to military art than scenes of combat. Scenes of combat exhibit the apex of intensity. Obviously, scenes from the battlefield shouldn’t be glorified and we should not let ourselves get caught up in some mythical perceptions about what combat was like back then. However, there were many historical events, without the blood and gore, that though not on the battlefield, have a curious impact on the way we can reflect on the personalities portrayed in the art. If we have a battle scene before us, we can reflect on the chaos and horrors of the fight, but why do we need to be restricted to reflections on this alone? What about other times… after all, combat made up a relatively small percentage of the four years of the Civil War? Take, for example, Troiani’s piece “Decision at Dawn.” It isn’t a combat scene, but rather a moment portrayed for us as the viewer’s to immerse ourselves in an historical moment. When looking at this print, how does Lee’s expression impact our reflection on that particular historical moment? Knowing the context in which the image is presented, how does this impact our understanding of the time after this scene?

I think Civil War art is an effort in “immersion design.” How can the artist portray a scene that envelops the viewer, if only for a moment, in that historical event? Kunstler is trying to accomplish just that in the image at the beginning of this post. Yet, noting some discussion in another post today, maybe there is an apples to oranges comparison going on here between works produced by Kunstler and Troiani. I think the closest Troiani gets to tapping into anything tied to gender (including stereotypical beliefs in what appeals to male and female audiences) is his regimental print, “1st Regiment South Carolina Rifles.”

So, let’s get down to the core of the Kunstler piece shown at the beginning of this post. I’m curious. Is there any art focused on Union military leaders and their softer side? If so, what? If not, why? Is there anything really wrong with creating military art that shows scenes that feature things other than combat? Would art showing Union leaders in similar situations actually sell?

My problem with Kunstler’s stuff is that it’s just bad. Bad all around. But maybe I’m just jealous that he’s making money hand over fist. And I have a clock with one of his pieces on it that is staring at me right now (it was a gift). I’ve written a few bits about Civil War art on my blog. To me, N. C. Wyeth is the king, and Rocco goes for a Wyeth feel to his stuff. I have a Troiani because it is a Bull Run study, a Rocco that depicts Antietam. But my favorite of the three I own is a cheap copy (I spent 10 times what it cost just to get it framed!) of the painting that graces the cover of “Struggle for a Vast Future”, Edwin Bashfield’s “The Fifth Minnesota Regiment at Corinth”, from 1912. Now, that’s ART!!!! See here:

I find Wyeth’s Stonewall Jackson print an interesting piece for discussion. If a print really taps into “imagined memory” of people from the war, that one, I think, might take the cake. The Corinth piece you mention is interesting. I’m not an art historian, but the image is almost dreamlike. Nothing wrong with that, but I lean more toward imagery that captures realism. Maybe realism isn’t the artsy word for what it is, exactly, that I mean to say.

Yep, Wyeth’s Stonewall is an icon. If you can find a copy of Rocco’s painting of Wheat’s 1st Special Battalion at Bull Run (LOVE to get a copy) and you can see it was influenced by Wyeth’s Stonewall.

I’m no art historian either (but I did stay in a Holiday Inn Express once or twice), but dreamlike is not a bad description of the Corinth painting. I did take an art history class once in college, so I’m aware that the painting follows some classic composition guielines, with triangular shape and the Colonel at the apex beneath the flag. If you’re familiar with Battery Robinet, you know that the 5th retook the union guns there, which explains why the guns aren’t pointed at them. I love the defiant cast to the Confederate officer’s stance. All around a compelling work (to me – your mileage may vary!)

I always found the painting of Sedwick’s death by Scott “realistic”, and I like Homer’s painting of skirmishers in the Wilderness.

I wonder if that is the key. Perhaps the next time I stay at a Holiday Inn Express, I will go there with the focus of becoming something specifically and walk away from the night spent there, an even better… whatever it is I want to be! Clearly, I’ve spent far too much money on graduate programs when I could spend a fraction of it at a Holiday Inn Express and accomplish even more!

I do like Homer’s skirmishers, as well as that print (“Veteran in a New Field”) showing the 2nd Corps veteran (with his sack coat lying on the ground) scything wheat. Now that is stimulus for discussion… and actually was in one of my CW courses at ODU.

I’m going to put aside my personal relationship with Mort for just a minute. First, we must acknowledge the entire intent of KL’s original post. As this is what has happened multiple times, I do a piece on a subject and he reacts to it simply in an effort to tick me off. It’s happened repeatedly, so there is no use in him denying it. I did an article on Mort Kunstler’s latest release in the FLS and posted on it 11/8.

Then KL ‘coincidentally’ posts his jab at Mort’s work on 11/10. Then his lemmings pile on in the Comments section. What a disappointment that this is the ‘class act’ got the Fredericksburg keynote address to this year. Members of the local SCV have already voiced their displeasure with the choice. Regardless, to each his own in regards to art. I’m an Art Director by trade and I am ‘supposed’ to have taste. I personally love Mort’s work as it is in the classic style and the man is a legend in the commercial illustration world. He’s painted over 5000 pieces and is still going strong in his late 70’s. But I don’t need to defend his work, critics are more than welcome to their own interpretations. Still it’s about painting what sells. None of these artists are trying to re-interpret history. They are trying to get paid. Its their job after all. Frankly, paintings are supposed to be uplifting. Who would want to hang something depicting horrible suffering on their wall after all? Who would buy that? Still, you pose some excellent points about art and memory in your post, which was actually composed to generate some real intelligent discussion. Thank you.

Like I said, since I draw a pathetic stick man, I can’t call someone’s art “bad,” that is, unless their stick man is worse than mine. As for my own opinions, I’m just voicing personal preference in art.

That said, some artists, I think, do, in fact, try to reinterpret history, but clearly Kunstler is basing this work on an actual event. What he is doing here, in my opinion, is portraying the event visually. No doubt, there is something to be said about those who remediate words into art. I wish I could, but I just don’t have that talent.

Still, I am curious and wonder just how many such historical incidents involving Union officers have missed a chance for the canvas… and again, I wonder if such things would sell. Bottom line is that Confederate stuff sells and clearly Kunstler has a loyal audience and he continues to meet their expectations.

I think Strain might fall into the camp of a “reinterpreter”, particularly with his sappy bits on Forrest “‘fo de woah”. (And I suspect there is a reason that his recent work is so “photo-like”, but I don’t know for sure so won’t say.) As for Union officers shown in the “more caring” moments, I think there may be one or two featuring Chamberlain and his wife, as well as one featuring Reynolds and his girlfreind – both of these my be by Dale Gallon. One would have a tough time arguing that an artist is “just trying to show how much religion meant to some men of war” when faced with the fact that, while Jackson and Lee have featured in dozens of religioulsy themed prints over the past few years, none of these guys depicted Oliver O. Howard bathed in a heavenly glow as he contemplated scripture. Or for that matter George McClellan, who referred to divine Providence in his writing at least as often as Lee and Jackson.

Harry, I think you are on target on Strain. I love the photo-like quality (you might also be on to something regarding what is behind that aspect), but the scenarios are sometimes outside actual events and more “imagined” than real. Ah yes, I forgot about the Gallon prints showing Chamberlain and Reynolds. Good points also regarding Howard and McClellan. Considering the significance of 2009, I wonder what scene… what moment of introspection… might be created with Lincoln as the focal point in the coming year (if any such art is being considered).

Oliver O. Howard (1830-1909)
“Old Prayer Book” fought for the North—and then for freed slaves.
General Oliver Otis Howard was a New England abolitionist who never drank, smoked, or swore. His troops called him “Old Prayer Book.”

Howard’s brigade was routed at the First Battle of Bull Run. He blamed the Union Army’s horrific defeat on its decision to attack on a Sabbath.

Howard, who was widely known as “the Christian soldier,” also fought at Antietam, and he was routed by Stonewall Jackson at Chancellorsville. After losing his right arm at the battle of Seven Pines, he mustered humor to say to General Kearny, who had lost his left arm, “I am sorry, General, but you must not mind it; … we can buy our gloves together!”

On a Sabbath rest during Sherman’s march to Atlanta, General Howard, as he occasionally did, spoke during chapel services. According to a missionary of the Christian Commission, “the General spoke of the Saviour, his love for Him and his peace in His service, as freely and simply as he could have spoken in his own family circle.”

Following the war, Howard led the Freedmen’s Bureau, a government effort to assist former slaves. He helped to found a university for blacks in 1867. Named in his honor, Howard University stands today, in The New York Time’s words, as “the largest and most prestigious black research university in America.” The general also stirred controversy when he tried to integrate a church.

Howard served as chairman of the board of the American Tract Society and as superintendent of West Point. In 1869 he presented Bibles to all incoming West Point cadets, a practice that continues today.

George B. McClellan (1826-1885)On his orders, the Sabbath was observed throughout the Union Army.

George McClellan took command of the Armies of the United States in November 1861. The ambitious “Young Napoleon” was 35 and a newly converted Christian.

The Union had just suffered a great defeat at the First Battle of Bull Run. Some people said the Union was defeated because Federal troops attacked on Sunday morning, dishonoring the Sabbath. McClellan agreed, and he ordered that the Sabbath be observed throughout the Union Army, with services held whenever military demands did not absolutely prevent worship and rest.

However, devotion to God and popularity with his troops were not enough to make McClellan one of history’s great commanders. He was overcautious; he continually overestimated the Confederate’s strength, and he was slow to attack. Four months after becoming commander-in-chief, he was demoted by Lincoln; eight months after that, he was ordered to yield his army to General Burnside, go home, and wait for orders. They never came.

William Rosecrans (1819-1898)The passionate Catholic wouldn’t fight on Sundays.
General Rosecrans led his troops with the motto “[God] never fails those who truly trust.” The New York Times, however, was not impressed with his dependence on divine guidance. The paper characterized him as depressive and indecisive in battle.

Following the battle at Murfreesboro, Rosecrans refused to pursue the defeated Confederate force, led by General Braxton Bragg, because he wanted his army to rest on the Sabbath.

Though known for drinking and swearing heavily, “Old Rosy” increased the number of chaplains in his company. And he often engaged his staff in religious discussions, in one period keeping them up until 4 A.M. for ten nights in a row. He attended Mass every day.

“Mort Künstler is the foremost Civil War artist of our time — if not of all time,” says Dr. James I. Robertson Jr., the dean of Civil War historians and the author of the celebrated biography, Stonewall Jackson. “To study his paintings,” says Robertson, “is to simply see history alive.” Pulitzer Prize-winning historian James McPherson concurs. “Of all the artists working in the Civil War field,” he observes, “none captures the human element, the aura of leadership, the sense of being there and sharing in the drama, quite like Mort Künstler. He has that enviable talent of being able to re-create history on canvas and to translate events into art.”

Harold Holzer, Vice-President of Communications and leading authority on Civil War art with New York City’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, believes the popular enthusiasm for Mr. Künstler’s work is due to his artistic talent as much as to the authenticity of his art. “He deserves double credit” says Holzer, “His art is terrific and he’s attracted thousands of people to Civil War art.”

So many of the critics want to politicize and pyscho-analyze every single aspect of CW history, (including art) couching their criticism in “terms of memory” whatever that’s supposed to mean.

Yes, Robertson, McPherson, and Holzer praise Kunstler’s work, and that’s fine. Yet, even in the case of recommending a book, just because someone recommends it doesn’t make it the foremost anything (they just help to elevate the importance of it within a group that follows their recommendations). Like you said, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Robertson, McPherson, and Holzer like it for their reasons, others don’t like it for their own reasons. To not like it isn’t a slight on the artist or his works, unless the dislike of the art goes beyond simply not liking because of personal preference.

Interpreting historical scenarios described in written words through art… that’s simply the artist’s attempt to remediate the original form of work. He/she is trying to create something for a viewer to visualize based on the written word. Nothing wrong with that (unless the historical account is inaccurate).

On the other hand, when you have art that is created, not out of interpretation of real events, but based on how an artist imagines an historical person may have reacted in an unreal or imagined scenario, then you have an “imagined presentation.” Is it, at that point really historical art, or over the top in speculation? The fact of the matter is that some of those who view the art may well see it as something depicting a real event (and thus, like it or not, this is “imagined memory”). This has implications on down the road; both in the way that the “beholder” interprets the art and the way that they, therefore, convey meaning in what they relate to others about the particular historical character in the imagined art and about “imagined events.”

Thanks for the comment. It forced me to more clearly define the problem presented.

Robert,
I remain surprised and somewhat dismayed at the fact that these paintings are still credited with being realistic while the paucity of realism regarding combat trauma is clear as day. This is a paradox I resolve simply: Civil War combat art that sanitizes its subject matter should not be considered realistic.
It’s difficult to have an honest appraisal and memory of the Civil War when the very nature and horrendous reality of the fighting is expunged from popular art for commercial gain

Mark, I actually need to expand on my brief comment in Kevin’s post. I can agree with your idea of a moratorium on combat art. True “realism” in combat is not something that we should even want in our “art.” Therefore, you are also correct about misleading imagery presented in any contemporary works and how this failure to capture the horrors is not in the best interest of our “memory” of the war.

As I say in my post, my personal preference is for single soldier imagery in non-combat scenarios or non-combat scenes such as “Decision at Dawn.”

I do believe that non-combat events, as visual works in which written words have been remediated, can force us to revisit a subject from another angle. If done right, they can contribute to better understanding. Of course, care should be taken considering the potential for artistic license in such works. As I mentioned earlier, such slants (most especially when the art uses an historical character out of context in an “imagined” scenario simply to exhibit saint-like qualities) can create “imagined memory” that can reach through generations to come.

How to make a moratorium “stick” is another issue and we can only speculate, I think, on what should be done.

Actually, in my post you will note that I mentioned your post as one of three that I wanted to discuss. Somehow, I became more consumed with commenting about what was in two posts and failed to get back to yours.

I’ll elaborate on the short, critical comment I made on Kevin’s site. I’m probably spoiled by the great painters of Napoleonic works. Look at works by Ernest Meissonier and Edouard Detaille and you’ll see what I mean. And most of their works are non-combat scenes. I just think Kunstler’s – and most other works by the current crop of CW artists – pale by comparison.
It’s like comparing a potboiler author to Dickens or Tolstoy.

I don’t know that “realistic-ness” – to avoid saying “realism” – is a goal in Civil War or any other kind of art through the years. Remember, this is art we’re talking about, something you hang on your walls for pleasure. I don’t think modern Civil War art is different from any other art at any other time in this respect, so the fact that I don’t see blood and guts in any of it doesn’t phase me one way or the other. I don’t think there is anything to indicate that we should expect it. Art is meant to evoke emotion, and if that’s what Kunstler’s work does for his target market, then it’s doing what it’s supposed to do. When I said it was “bad”, I should have clarified that I meant it doesn’t appeal to me – on any level. I don’t dig his style, his composition, and particularly his use (or dis-use) of color. But that’s me. And as to why we don’t see similar themes with Yankee subjects, well, it’s for the same reason we do see Confederate battle flags in 8 out of 10 paintings on the CW: sales. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. As the bounty hunter said to Josey Wales, “Man’s gotta make a livin'”.

As for what “should be done” about this type of art and imagined memory, that smacks a little of bit of censorism. Who’s to decide what memory should be?

Thanks for commenting. I understand what you mean when considering the “classic” military art. I think there is something to be said about the virtual flood of contemporary military art by specific artists… it is overwhelming (not only paintings but clocks, plates, “mini-prints,” etc., etc.), as opposed to a specifically limited number pieces as in the case of the “classics.”

Harry,

I knew exactly what you meant when you said the art was “bad.” I think your view of Kunstler’s art is pretty much in line with mine. It’s nothing personal, it’s just not my cup of tea. Actually, there are some great “classic” pieces that portray Union personalities and simple imagery, as in the case… well, I think I’ll post on those older classic pieces. I think there was a time when Union art was more popular and some folks in the South just don’t see that because all they know was the “Southern Confederate perspective.”

As for what should be done. I’m not thinking along the lines of anything censorship-like. Like you say, “Man’s gotta make a livin,” and some of these people have been making a living doing this art for quite some time. I was thinking something simple, like perhaps, an icon to put on a sidebar of a blog. I “dunno,” maybe that’s it. Like I said, I’m partial to non-combat military art. If done right, it makes me think more about the scene. Not to say that combat art doesn’t make you think, it’s just not on a higher tier of thinking… I think. Also, in my opinion, “controlling memory” is like trying to package fleas, it’s an impossible task. Personally, if I can convince people to think instead of seeing things so literally, then I’m happy with that. The “blinder-effect” drives me nuts.